Sense of Belonging
by Miss Aconite
Summary: Hermione Granger struggles to find a place in two suffering worlds.


Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any related content, all belongs to J.K. Rowling and company.

A/N: Thanks goes out to Lady Angst and Super Sara for being my betas, and for Penguinbuddy for forcing me to write this. Thanks, guys. You are awesome.

Sense of Belonging

By Miss Aconite

Hermione Granger never admitted to her husband what is was like, all those years ago, to find that she was really a witch. How could Ron understand? He was a pureblood; and as much as it pained her to admit, pure blood- and even half blood- had its advantages. He had never been stretched between two worlds. Harry, as he often did, found himself to be an exception. Evan though he went through the same experiences as the Muggle borns, being that everything in the Wizarding world was alien to him, he was constantly praised for his parent's accomplishments, or for being the boy-who-lived.

She had been eleven years old when the letter came. Sitting at the kitchen table with her mum eating waffles, she was strangely calm as a large barn owl flew into their house bearing the letter from Hogwarts. She couldn't stop the bubbles of excitement as her mother read the letter aloud and her father looked on; she finally knew why she was different from everyone else.

Growing up, she had always felt alone. No one understood her love of books, her need to know everything there was to know. And even stranger things happened around her when they took the teasing too far, she felt even further divorced from her classmates then before.

And so, as she prepared to leave for Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, she even felt glad to leave the Muggle World behind. She missed the worried glances her parents sent over her head. She didn't think of it was leaving home, but going to a place where she would find other children her age that was just like her.

She was a first year, and she was very alone. She hadn't realized how much she depended on her parents when the other children had laughed at her. How when she had come home from school, crying, because of what the other children had called her, or said about her; her mother would put some warm cookies and a glass of milk in front of her and just listen. Now, far from home, she was lonely. She had found that wizarding children could be just as cruel as muggle children.

She hadn't made friends like she had hoped. Even the other first years in her house didn't like her; found her odd. School had been in session for almost two months, and Halloween was fast approaching, and the only person whom she had found that liked academia was the Gryffindor perfect, Percy Weasley.

She celebrated her twelfth birthday alone that year. There had been no cake, no "happy birthday, Hermione!" from her new dorm mates. No one had sung the birthday song, or noticed when her parents sent a small package that held a single picture frame of her parents standing in front of her childhood home. And no one had noticed when silent tears made their way down her face, as Hermione realized that she truly had entered a world that was lonelier then the one she had just left.

She was a third year, and striving to prove herself to the magical community. After the attacks in her second year on muggle borns, she constantly felt the need to prove herself. But she had friends; friends who stood by her no matter what, no matter who her parents were. Ron Weasley could make her laugh and settle down after a stressful day of classes, whereas Harry was constantly playing the protective older brother card on her. Hermione had a nagging feeling that it was just part of his hero complex, but she basked under the friendships they offered.

At only fourteen, she was already taking more classes then any other student at Hogwarts, and was still at the top of her classes, proving that even a Gryffindor could beat out a Ravenclaw at exams, under considerably more stress. She was only able to do this with the aid of a time-turner, granted to her from the Ministry of Magic. And it was only with the time-turner that she and Harry were able to rescue his godfather, Sirius Black, from a fate worse then death. As she looked on, Hermione was able to see what life was all about: how a boy and his godfather, having know each other for a matter of hours, could connect in such a way struck awe in her.

But for the first time in a long time, Hermione Granger was happy, and felt at home in the world.

She was a fifth year, and a war was raging. Everything was falling apart. The government was becoming corrupted in a time that called for unity and strength. The magical world was relying on her best friend to save them, while at the same time discrediting him.

The war was caused because of pureblood mania, making her a target. She was a "mud blood" and her parents were Muggles. Every morning, she scanned the papers with her friends, praying that there hadn't been any attacks. Every morning, as she ate breakfast, she scanned the flocks of owls, hoping that there would be a letter from her parents, so she could breathe a sigh of relief: they were safe for one more day.

For the first time, she felt separated from her parents and there was no turning back. How could they understand this war? This prejudice? Could they understand that she could stay in a world where people wanted her dead? Prejudice was a something you read about in history books, something that happened to other people. Not people like her, not their daughter, because of who _they _were. How could she talk to them about this?

She was seventeen, and had left school just before she was meant to start her last year of Hogwarts. The war was all but lost: the government collapsed, and her Headmaster dead. Hermione stood outside of the kitchen door, hand on the door handle, where she could hear her parents talking, fingering her wand. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes for a moment, and knew she had to do this. She was a Witch. The time of regret were over. She knew the danger her parents faced.

They could die just because of who and what she was. She knew that her very existence put theirs at risk. Who would protect them when she was gone? She no longer belonged to their world. She had to fight to stop her own world from falling into darkness. She had to keep them safe.

She opened the door and looked at her parents one last time.

A/N: Thank for reading, and please review! It would make my day: )


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